Fireflies
by CyborgNumber18
Summary: Bulma has a strange dream, and Vegeta is to blame.


This is it. Just the simple pleasures....   
(For Muffins... Even though he probably won't understand most of it cause he's not a real big DBZ fan.... lol)   
I decided to do something different for this one... As with most of the stories I write, I was inspired by a dream I had. But this dream... This dream has been with me my entire life. Just make me Bulma, and you'll understand. -- 18 

Fireflies

Bulma stared out at the lawn, bewildered.   
Fireflies floated about, flitting from tree to bush to flower, thousands of them. The backyard had become a pool of pale light and sparkles. It was beautiful to behold, and Bulma had to hold in a gasp as a group of sparkles made its way to her.   
"Do you like it?"   
He was covered in fireflies, from the tip of his spiky black hair, to the ends of his gilded boots. He was smiling warmly, and his tail waved freely as little glimmers of light shimmered around it.   
"I....Yes... It's beautiful.... How --"   
"How did I manage it?"   
"Yes!"   
He smiled again, his teeth gleaming in the pale light. His voice was dark silk.   
"Magic." 

She felt warm. He held her close, his dry, firm hands cradling her in his embrace, his chest pressed against hers. She could feel his heart beating, and feel the muscles in his chest moving when he breathed. She didn't open her eyes: she didn't want to forget the beauty that he had shown her. His scent drifted over to her, warm, comforting...   
"YAMCHA!"   
She jerked away from him, and he fell off the bed in a pile of startled sheets.   
"Jeezus, Bulma... What was that for?? You scared the hell outta me..."   
He pulled himself back up onto the bed, settling back. His eyes were still startled, but he was concerned.   
"I...I... I had a bad dream..." She was just as startled, but she didn't want to tell him about her dream. It would be easier for him if she just said that she had a nightmare. Imagine explaining why she had been dreaming about Vegeta....   
He gave her a funny look, one eyebrow up, and blinked.   
"Usually you just grab on to me... What's wrong?"   
_Your new woman, that's what's wrong. Wait... No... He.... He wouldn't... Would he? Why would I think that??_   
"Nothing, Yamcha... Go back to bed."   
"You sure it's nothing? 'Cause, I can like, get you some food or something... If you need it..." He gestured to her belly, a questioning look on his face.   
She fell back on the bed covering her face with a pillow, then flinging it back down again, her face a bright shade of red.   
"YAMCHA! You know very well that you don't have any reason to give me that kind of look!"   
He grinned, his hand behind his head.   
"Well... Ya never know... Pregnancy by osmosis??"   
She smacked him with the pillow. 

The coffee was getting cold. She'd have to reheat it again. _'What is the point of getting coffee if you don't drink it?'?? Well, Mom... It's like meditation... You stare into the coffee, watch the heat rise. And then you think. It clears the mind._ She moved the base of the mug about on the kitchen table aimlessly, hoping some more steam would rise.   
"You're wasting a perfectly good morning, Woman."   
_Ah. 'Mister Happy Time' has arrived._   
"Vegeta..?" She decided to risk it.   
He grunted, reaching into the fridge for some his container of milk. He had already built a meal, silently.   
She stood, worried to ask, but needing to know. _I hope it works... Then I'll find out what the hell is going on with me..._   
"Did Vegeta-sei have magic?"   
He stood suddenly, nearly dropping the milk, his eyes startled. He recovered quickly, silently placing the milk on the counter, and reached back in for the eggs.   
"What does it matter to you?" His voice was more gruff than usual. The eggs reached the counter, rocking gently on their ovaloid bases.   
She walked over, leaning on the refrigerator door.   
"It matters." She shrugged. "Did they or not? It's a simple question, easily answered by one of your sweet trademark grunts..." She smiled. _God... I hope he's impressed: It's my best smile! What the...?! This is VEGETA we're talking about... Why do I want him to notice me??_   
His arm stopped short of the cheese, and he stared into the back of the fridge as if trying to decide how to answer. His eyes narrowed, and his face became neutral again as he grabbed the cheese and placed it on the counter near the milk. He closed the door and turned toward the counter, knocking Bulma loose of her arm rest.   
"Yes. We were warriors, but that didn't mean that we didn't have a religion." He pulled a pan out of the cabinet and slid it onto one of the stove's burners.   
"Magic was your RELIGION???" Her mouth hung open.   
"Yes. In a way."   
_Why is he telling me this?? What is he trying to pull?_   
"What do you mean?" She leaned in, wanting more. He cracked an egg, and it sizzled as it hit the pan. His face was passive, almost peaceful. And then he turned to her, his brows furrowed in some deep emotion.   
"Why do you pester me?? YOU should be cooking for me, not the other way around...." He frowned, then turned back to his cooking, his face a mask of silence.   
She reached over to the cheese and peeled a few slices free. He glanced at her, out of the corner of her eye, but she didn't notice.   
"What are you doing?" Her head snapped up, shocked at the sound of his voice.   
"I'm helping you cook. See?" She held up a floppy piece of cheese, then popped it into her mouth.   
"Don't eat my food, Woman." He reached out, taking the pack of cheese from her and putting it closer to him.   
She shrugged.   
"Have it your way... I was just trying to help." Grabbing a piece of cheese as she left the room, she waved. "Oh, Vegeta?"   
He looked up.   
"Thanks for the fireflies."   


(8-5-00) 


End file.
